


The Terrain Of Your Kiss

by elatedroses



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Poetry, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 01:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20107165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elatedroses/pseuds/elatedroses
Summary: Though the stars still stretch into the horizon (thanks to us), I still see them scattered through your soul.





	The Terrain Of Your Kiss

Though ineffability had been stretched thin, hearts had yet to console themselves in the aftermath. Switch swap and a bow, it all seemed to be over now. They were oh so tired,  _ you can sleep on my couch if you like _ and subdued assurances that all would be well. Invitations and hesitant smiles, because it really was over now.

Bodies full of tasteful conversation and still a little tipsy off of the end of the world, they headed to a place resembling a home, cozy and warm and all of the things that a home should be. Gladly, it wasn’t as warm as it used to be. No, no - that had been dealt with. 

Nobody left instructions for how to be allowed to touch a body forbidden to you since the dawn of time. To a certain degree, the two were on the exact same wavelength, in that they were both wondering about acquiring such instructions from a dusty tome or the interwebs. Reigned in fingers, fingers that were wondering  _ how are you? And how are you  _ really _ ? _

Quiet had always been comfortable, but now it was suffocating. Lack of an endgame was frazzling; there was no longer any reason to thwart or hide or cover up the seams that had been mended and rebroken over centuries. The tears that couldn’t be cried.

But now one’s on the couch, and another’s bustling around doing this and that and both are muddled trying not to think about the other and  _ where exactly are the ridges of your being? Can I smooth them? _ How my body can whisper so painstakingly often in your presence, it doesn’t shock me anymore, the ripples in my chest.

_ Talk to me, angel _ , tinged with wine and eras of unsaid words. 

_ Hmph _ , laced with a frustration that no longer had a reason to prevail. Eyes catching on memories, tugging at the strings, a genuine puppet smile.  _ Dear boy, do you remember this? _

It was something or another, but - of course - he did.

And so the many inquiring smiles mingled with reminiscent pleasantries, somehow two more glasses had appeared and those smiles became more hiccuped grins. Laughter, taking wings, with no restrictions, for the first time.

Pulled closer and closer by the ecstasy of closeness, of nearness so dear that it drugged up them giddy. Out of colliding skin,  _ Lost my.. trail of thought.. oh, dear.. _ and listening grumbles came a chemical equation so turbulent that it steamed thick into the night.

One had a thought, and the other immediately knew what it was. Dimming lights and breath hitching on ages of hesitation, fingers finally getting to say  _ hello. How nice it is here. _

Scorched lips still asking for permission, for forgiveness, but met with a resounding chorus of pleas and impatient action. Such an utterly human business, what with all the  _ touch _ and  _ desire _ and  _ just don’t wait any longer _ , but they had no trouble. 

Divinity can be found in the most primal of acts. It was in your lips on mine, in your hands coursing cross my skin, in the promises whispered into my chest. It was our thunder bodies and the lightning sighs. 

Thousands of cracks in walls built higher than Heaven broke free of their hasty repairments, their band-aid fixes. Flooding with everything that had always been there before, now brought to gulp in breaths at the surface.

The quiet did not have to be comfortable, because comfortable is not always what is best. Sometimes what is best is being as close to you as I possibly could be, no matter how it chafes or slips. 

So long as we have each other, the stars could never compare.

**Author's Note:**

> a short lil drabble about what happened after the ritz. I wanted to try and incorporate more of my natural poetry style and ended up with this. hope that you enjoyed and that you have a lovely day/night <3


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